


Ocularity

by Sodalicious_Froggy



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blood and Injury, Decapitation, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sodalicious_Froggy/pseuds/Sodalicious_Froggy
Summary: Crossfaction always starts out funny, huh?
Relationships: Engineer/Medic (Team Fortress 2)
Kudos: 21





	Ocularity

**Author's Note:**

> doodle from a while ago that i sill like actually! enjoyyyyy~

He’s never seen eyes like RED Medic’s, he thinks. Others would say he’d be one to talk considering the inheritance of his father’s heterochromic blue and green eyes, but color wasn’t necessarily the thing he was hung over here.

He remembers the first time he’d seen them up close and personal, the true starting point to his fascination.

He remembers a sharp blade against his neck, pressing into his skin and causing blood to stain his shirt collar while a strong hand kept him pinned against the concrete wall to his back.

He remembers heavy panting- both from him and his assailant- the two of them having fought each other tooth and nail for the chance at getting back to their obligations; the feeling of defeat and shame and fear welling in the back of his throat.

He remembers pale, blue-grey eyes staring directly into him, even through the thick tinted glass of his goggles. The layers of pain and fatigue and… sadness that they held. A depth he feels he could’ve gotten lost in for hours if he were allowed.

And he remembers the feeling of cold, hardened steel slicing through his neck, unsure if the distant memory of his head becoming detached and his body slumping to the floor was real or a hallucination fabricated by his brain to give reason for his labored, gasping breaths on the respawn room floor.

If you had any sense of self preservation, you’d think that being decapitated with a bone saw by a man a whole head above you in height who was known for his capabilities in bloodshed would deter you from seeking out said man, especially considering you now carried a thin white scar on your neck as a testament to your failure.

Yet every single day, every single battle, he found himself searching for those eyes in the endless sea of gunpowder and war that was his day job.

It wasn’t often they came close to each other considering their respective roles in the badlands; his behind a rather large gun, and the other behind other people with smaller (but potentially just as deadly) guns. But Engie found himself gravitating towards the doctor again and again, thinking that he might have to stop ruling their confrontations as mere accidents.

The second time they’d met was when he’d left his sentry to find more metal, only to come across sticky bombs hanging overhead and a rather pleased looking RED Demoman with his healer behind him.

The third was coming out of respawn to find RED Medic and his Heavy turning the corner, barely having time to react before BLU Sniper had shot them both in the head.

The fourth was another struggle, Engie having basically straddled RED Medic to the floor with his sentry in pieces all around them and a pistol pointed at the medicine man’s forehead.

And then there was a fifth. And a sixth. And a seventh and soon enough, he couldn’t even keep track of them all, only remembering one thing and one thing alone every single time.

Those eyes.

Those eyes that bore into him every time they met. Those eyes that told stories and and taunted him with words he couldn’t understand. Those eyes that blazed with intensity yet harbored so much sorrow that Engie could practically feel it in his soul.

He doubted RED Medic felt any similar connection. After all, he seemed rather disinterested in him each of the times they’d met, usually finding more interest in escaping their scuffles alive rather than staring his opponent in the eye and telling him his deepest secrets.

Yet his interest persisted, willing to nearly die if it meant he’d get to see them again. Which sure, probably wasn’t a good thing, but when has he ever made a good decision in relation to emotions? Exactly.

So for them he continued to search, mindlessly maintaining his buildings and protecting their intel as he daydreamed about grey cloudy skies and warm blood slowly dripping down his neck.


End file.
